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That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 10:57 am
by ElTejon†
(Sean Carver continued from
Odd Man Out)
"Here it is man," the older boy whispered through tobacco-stained teeth, unfolding a small bit of tin foil to show a fine bit of whitish powder in his palm. Not that looking would have done any good for Sean, who still counted himself a relative newcomer to hard crank. Metrics were easy enough as they were, thank you very much, but without a scale to help it wouldn't do much good to try and be exact.
Eschewing time-worn manners, Sean snatched the tin foil out of the other boy's hands with a speed born of fear. His breath had already grown hot and heavy as soon as he'd stepped into the back alley, with nothing but images of sirens and handcuffs to keep him company back here.
"Pure grade stuff, straight over from the border," the boy continued, having either not noticed or deliberately forgotten the small insult he'd just suffered a few moments ago. With an all business tone in his voice, he whispered his next words with the volume of a conspirator.
"I can get you pure cocaine in about a week's time. No brick packed
Meh-hee-cano shit, it'd be a hundred percent Colombian primo."
Fixing the older boy with a look he typically reserved for his mother after having to repeat himself for her benefit, Sean replied in an even tone, "I couldn't afford that. I mean, look at me."
"What's that?" The dealer asked as he gave Sean's clothes a once over. "Nah, man, that's a Dickies suit. Nothing wrong with that, except you need to get rid of them crusty lookin' shoes."
Sean felt his face flush with embarrassment. Looking down at his shoes, he couldn't help but see the guy's point. He'd been wearing these things everyday for almost two years now. Just the thought of how they must look on him was enough to give him a reason to consider returning the meth and just going to buy something new for himself.
Like one of those Converses. Those were cool with the other kids -- at least, that's how they seemed to think of the All-Stars at Bayview -- and they were relatively cheap, at least priced at about the same amount of the shit he'd just bought.
Going over the wad of foil in his hand, Sean could only shake his head and, with a sour look on his face, give the older boy a grunted "Thanks, man; you have a good one," he made his way over to a dumpster situated near a fire exit. In his luck he found a flattened concrete box to sit on while he lit up, and didn't really mind too much about the strange dark stains he saw on the top side of the board.
Seated in a lotus position, Sean willed all his concentration into opening the foil container in his hands with all the care of a specialist defusing a nuclear warhead. He ripped the edge of the wrapper a bit before he had the thing fully unfolded. Wetting a finger in his mouth, he dipped into the powder and licked a crust of white power off the tip of his left ring finger.
Whether he owed it to a low tolerance or simply the placebo effect at its best, Sean already felt his body reacting to that small taste. His eyes, just heavy with sleep not more than a few minutes ago, were peeled back and cleared. Licking his lips, he made a face at the meth's bitter, acrid taste before stuffing the rest back into the breast pocket of his short-sleeved workshirt. This stuff would definitely keep him focused next week. If he was careful, he knew he could make it last two weeks, just if he were to find some way of smoking the speed conservatively.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sat Dec 05, 2009 10:52 pm
by Acelister†
((Rizzo Vitoria's introduction))
Rizzo sat in one of the many dumpsters that lined the alley behind the Promenade, a dust mask over his mouth and nose along with his old clothes and a pair of rubber washing-up gloves keeping him from permanent harm. His clothing was intact but the colours were very faded and parts of the large picture on his t-shirt had flaked off, making it hard to recognise what it once might have shown. He froze and ducked when he heard the doors open and people come out - nobody was due to empty the trash cans for at least half an hour!
"Here it is man," one of them said, relaxing Rizzo. It's not someone about to find him searching for clothes, lighters or accidentally discarded wallets and jewelry. He peeked over the edge of the dumpster and saw two guys making a drug exchange. No biggy, he decided before frowning. He recognised the one on the right - a senior from his school. Why not get the drugs at school like most kids would? He lowered his head again, to avoid being seen, but listened to their conversation.
"Thanks, man you have a good one," the one from his grade said and the two parted ways, according to their foot-falls. Rizzo waited until the dealer was gone - probably taking a gun with him that would have been used to shoot anyone who overheard about that cocaine.
He looked over the side of the dumpster again and saw the guy - whatever his name was - sitting below him. He lifted his dust mask up onto his forehead and leant over, grabbing one of the lighters he'd already found - almost half full of fluid.
"He's right, you know." he states. "You need to get some good shoes: like some Dunk's or Air Force."
He hand opens, holding the lighter between his index finger and thumb. "Need one of these? Or do you need a spoon - or a needle first?" he asks. He doesn't know much about drugs, just going by what he has seen on films.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 10:23 am
by ElTejon†
He was just about to pick up and head on back to the parking garage, but that little taste had already stirred a deeper craving for more. Reaching back into his shirt pocket, he unfolded the tin foil wrapping and contemplated what he held in his trembling hands.
All right, Sean thought as he looked over the fine powder in his hands. Now what do I do?
He tried to remember how they'd shown it being done in those anti-Drug PSAs they'd shown in Health class last week. The thing was though, whatever he could remember could've just as easily been done with what they'd intended to be cocaine. You didn't light coke up, though; that much he was pretty certain was particular to meth. Or maybe he was just --
"He's right you know -- You need to get some good shoes: like some Dunk's or Air Force."
The sudden interruption just about made Sean jump right out of his skin, and he checked his hands frantically to make sure that he hadn't spilled anything in panic. Turning to look at this source of intrusion, he opened his mouth to tell the other guy to fuck off but stopped.
Of all the things a kid back here could have been wearing, Sean certainly wouldn't have expected to see black rubber gloves up to the elbows, a dust mask like the one his mom sometimes wore when she was spray painting furniture in the garage; whatever this kid was doing behind here, it was something a lot more interesting than a line of trucker's crank.
A hand unfolded, showing off a cracked, half-full cigarette lighter. "Need one of these? Or do you need a spoon - or a needle first?"
Spoon and a needle?
Fixing the kid with a cautious look, Sean nodded at the cigarette lighter in the other boy's hand. He didn't feel comfortable to this other kid yet, at least not until he figured out just what the hell he was doing digging around in the back alley of a shopping mall.
Understanding came to him out of the blue. The pieces began to swirl and fall into place: the black gloves, the mask -- this kid must be running a lab or something nearby!
"So, uh, what's...what's up with the get up?"
He hoped the kid was cooking. A local source would keep him from having to hit up his cousin's college connections all the time, and if there was one thing he remembered from Economics, cutting out the middleman was always a great way to save money.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 11:55 am
by Acelister†
Rizzo grinned when he took the lighter, retracting his hand back into the dumpster. Helping people is what he does, after all. It's part of the reason he did this so often.
"So, uh, what's...what's up with the get up?"
"I'm looking for things." he shrugged. "People always put their wallet or keys... Sometimes even memory sticks... Onto their food trays, then without thinking they put them in the trash. I find them and return them, so long as there's some I.D."
He grabbed the side of the dumpster and the back, jumping and heaving himself over and dropping to the floor. The way he landed showed he had made the jump more than once.
"I didn't want to interrupt when your dealer was talking about cocaine." he tells his classmate. "I normally can't do anything for that sort - they think I'm a police informer."
He takes a glove off and offers his hand. "You go to Bayview, right?" he asks. "I'm Rizzo."
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 5:45 pm
by ElTejon†
Hopping off the side of the dumpster, the other boy started to make an apology, one that Sean couldn't really pay much attention to. For whatever the reason, he always found himself drifting in and out of conversations, usually coming back in to catch a fragment of a sentence that, in his luck, usually cut through all the bullshit and told him exactly what he needed to know about the other person.
"They think I'm a POLICE INFORMER."
"Whoa, what's that?" Sean exclaimed, scooting back from the other boy -- Rizzo if he heard him right -- just a hair, his hands instinctively reaching to thumb open his breast pocket, just in case he needed to stash it away quick before hauling ass out of the alley. "Sorry, but did you just say that you're a fucking narc?"
The deathly cold, suspicious glare he gave to Rizzo couldn't even match the terror that seized his heart at the thought of running into a snitch with a bag of meth he'd bought from his leftover birthday money. There was no fighting back the panic in his body, and for a moment he looked for all the world like an animal ready to bite and claw into the flesh of a larger predator.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 7:58 pm
by Acelister†
Rizzo blinked as the taller guy said that and stepped backwards.
"No, no!" he says, shaking his hands from side to side. "If I try to talk to people like your friend, that's what they think. I steal clothes from these dumpsters, man. If I was a snitch, I'd get fucked over just as much as anyone."
He removes his other glove and folds them both together, putting them in a little bag hooked into one of the belt-hoops of his jeans. He then takes off the dust mask and puts that in the bag as well.
"I been at this a while now..." he says, taking a silver strip of caffeine pills from his pocket and popping two out. "I'm gonna go get some frozen yogurt."
He puts the strip back in his pocket and opens his mouth, tossing the pills inside and swallowing them.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 9:29 pm
by ElTejon†
The guy was stealing from the mall trash?
Jesus, he must be even more strapped for cash than I am.
"I've been at this a while now." Rizzio popped a few pills into his mouth. Small blue pills, probably for a caffeine rush, but for all Sean knew they could've been ecstasy tablets. "I'm going to get some frozen yogurt."
Shugging, Sean began to turn away, then froze as he remembered something. Turning, he called out, "Hey wait! You said something about a spoon and a needle. I think I was supposed to, ah..."
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a crumpled straw, the only one he'd managed to find after going over the entire kitchen. Unfortunately, he'd made the mistake of keeping in tucked into his back pocket on the drive over here, and the weight of his body had just about snapped the flimsy plastic right in half.
"Supposed to use this thing to..." A desperate grab for his next words failed him. Deciding not to fake it anymore, he gave Rizzio an embarrassed shrug. "You know what, man? I'm gonna be honest with you, I've got no clue what I'm supposed to do with this stuff."
Crouching down, the small of his back leaning slightly against the back wall, he contemplated the contents of the wrapper. "Never thought I would even consider using this stuff," He said, his mind drifting deep into the void within. A note of disgust entered his voice as he thought back to the events leading up to this chance encounter, deep and hidden away with a handful of poison. And he did know this stuff would kill him, if he kept on using it.
"Always thought drugs were for the weak. That's what my dad said anyways. And I used to think that way, before I got into Bayview. Then my grades started slipping, the math got harder..."
A far-away look washed over his features. With a glazed look in his eyes that spoke of a thought process occurring in some far off imaginary corner of the universe.
"Yeah... Bayview." Sighing, he turned and looked at Rizzio, his eyes now wild, filled with a multitude of thoughts just flickering about in his head like a lighting storm searing the mid-afternoon sky. He thought about seeing Claire McGowan making out with her boyfriend in the halls
(Should be me it should have been ME)
and how that fucking guy wouldn't stop bugging him about his damn coat, and how that American History test was coming up next week and he needed to
(studystudystudystudystudy)
It was all good though. All good. None of the thoughts reached deep enough to draw blood. All he could feel as the ice tore its way through his bloodstream was a sense of unimaginable elation. Here, now, he felt like he'd grown to twelve feet in height and could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
He didn't even really consider talking to the other boy. The words just came out, lips moving as if of their own volition to continue a conversation he no longer truly remembered.
""So, you're out here digging through garbage cans, finding clothes and shit? Think you can get me a straw, or some kind of tube? You're welcome to take a hit with me, if you can get this thing to work."
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Tue Dec 08, 2009 8:47 pm
by Acelister†
Rizzo's eyebrow raised as the guy in front of him started to ramble on and on, though seemed to be getting further and further from him. His eyes start to get a glazed look and he realised what must be happening. The guy is having a high. He must have taken some of it when Rizzo wasn't looking. He remembered something similar happening when he started taking caffeine pills regularly.
"So, you're out here digging through garbage cans, finding clothes and shit? Think you can get me a straw, or some kind of tube? You're welcome to take a hit with me, if you can get this thing to work."
"I can find that straw." Rizzo nodded. "But it's your shit, you can have it all. I don't like to take drugs."
He doesn't class his habit as a drug habit - it's only caffeine. He could stop any time he wanted.
He turned back to the dumpster and hopped up onto the box he used to climb in the first time, rolling over into it. He spotted a box of straws earlier... He stood, his feet being quite steady thanks to his many previous dumpster-dives, and looked for the box. He saw it and tossed it out towards Sean before going to get out again.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 5:22 am
by ElTejon†
All this off a taste, Sean thought in amazement as head began to nod ever so slightly. Hearing Rizzio turn his offer down had made him just a teensy bit disappointed when he'd first heard it -- after all, even he could appreciate the opportunity to make a new friend -- but right now, he regretted having made such a foolish offer in the first place. He didn't even know the kid's first name and already he was offering him a hit of meth? Ridiculous. Stupid of him to even ask.
A box landed near him, one he hoped had a good clean straw hidden somewhere inside. After gingerly setting the tinfoil aside, he leaned over and picked the box off the ground, stopping only to give a quick glance up to Rizzio, who was already climbing back over the side of the dumpster, before looking down to select a bendy straw from the box. He checked to see it was clean, and after a few seconds of inspection gave a satisfied grunt to see no food or anything else had gotten on it.
Now all that he had to do was figure out how to use it. Turning his head to consider the powdery substance sitting right next to him, he thought of all the times he'd seen people snorting coke up through straws on movies and television. It only seemed to make sense to do the same with meth, since it was after alll in just the right state to be inhaled.
He didn't even bother with separating the stuff, deciding to simply keep it cupped into a pile inside the wrapper -- he still didn't understand why the guy who'd sold it to him hadn't just used a little baggie or something instead of something that was so easy to rip. Maybe the guy was too cheap to go to the store to buy some Ziploc bags, who fucking knew?
"Geronimo," Sean said, an excited grin on his face as he slipped the end of the straw into the little white mound. He could already feel the rush he'd gotten from the first hit working its magic, keeping his mind sharper than he could remember ever having been before. With this happening off a meager sample, the thought of how he might feel off a straight shot right up his nose made him feel just as excited as he was uneasy about sticking something he'd gotten from the garbage straight up into his nose. That, and he couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was some critical mistake he was making.
He looked over at Rizzio again, regretting that he couldn't turn and ask the boy for advice on what to do. Then, steeling himself for whatever might happen, he bent back over his lap and carefully inserted the straw up his left nostril. The hit that he'd braced himself didn't come; to his disgust, he was still too nervous to breath it in.
You always pussy out, Sean, he imagined his father jeering at him. Truthfully, he couldn't even remember his father ever mocking anyone, let alone his only child, but it was something he liked to picture in his head when he was trying to stir up some anger towards the man. It didn't quite work. Far from feeling angry or motivated, he simply felt energized and more than a little on edge.
I'm thinking about it too much.
He did it quick, inhaling as much as he could in one huge snort of air. He felt the powder enter his skull, imagined it swirling around the inside of his skull in a cartoony fashion. It was almost funny, even as he shut his eyes, which were already tearing up from the nasty onset of what felt like a bad headache.
Not too shabby, he thought. He would have to see about getting some Tylenol, but it wasn't too bad an experience for a first-time user.
Then the pain hit, hard, tearing deep into his head and bringing out a deep red fog that only just barely kept him from feeling the worst of the first wave. The tears, once just a bit of moisture at the corner of his eyes, now came full force as his head snapped back. He cried out as the first spike of pain tore into him, giving him barely enough sense to get out a thought, one desperate thought --
oh god it hurts please god make it stop i swear i won't oh
More pain, even worse than before. He yelped and grabbed his head, cradling it and rocking back and forth. The world was starting to spend now, drawing out an unsettled feeling in his stomach that promised the contents of his stomachs to the roaches scuttering about on the ground. Trying to hold the bile down, he shut his eyes tight, only to find the same swirl to greet him there in the dark.
"Hurtssss..." He whispered. Then he puked.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Fri Dec 11, 2009 11:48 pm
by Acelister†
Rizzo watched as he climbed out of the dumpster and dropped to the ground. The guy was obviously having an internal monologue or something - he seemed to hesitate before finally giving in and snorting. He watched for a moment before the guy begins to sway - something wasn't right, he could clearly see.
"Hey, are you oka...?" he started to ask but was cut off when the guy spoke and threw up suddenly.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, hopping backwards to avoid the splash-zone. "What the fuck, man! I thought you'd know what the hell you were doin', at least!"
He stayed back, not wanting to get even a particle on his clothes - it was already too worrying to get them washed and dried without being asked about why he wore such old clothing. His parent's didn't monitor him, but he had already washed some clothes a few days prior
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2009 5:16 am
by ElTejon†
He couldn't bear to look at himself. He felt something hot and sticky run from the receiving nostril and collect at the top of his lip. He tasted blood, slimy and carrying a sickly coppery tang that made him clench his stomach. He wiped a wet red streak onto his jacket sleeve from his upper lip and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to clear his head. It wasn't easy -- thoughts came hard when your brain feels like it's been replaced by a plastic baggie filled with broken glass.
"Oh maaan..." He whined, spitting out gobs of putrid brown fluid in between shallow, ragged breaths. He'd never experienced this level of pain before. God, he thought in terror. Oh God, am I dying? Am I gonna O.D. right here? In the back alley of a mall?
Suddenly, his eyes opened, and his bloodstained lips gave a single whisper in a small, frightened voice.
"Help me."
Then more pain came, and his eyes snapped shut again as Sean's head was split wide open from the inside out. With a shuddery moan, he fell to his knees and sank to the ground, his face turned so that he could stare at the ground, which was quickly itself in a growing void that swirled and shimmered until it encompassed his vision.
In the midst of the darkness, Sean thought back to to the time when his cousin had come over to his house to hang out for vacation. He remembered the sights, and his imagination practically carried him back to that afternoon when, in the middle of getting himself a snack, he'd spied his cousin using his dad's cigar cutter keychain to split open a joint.
And then, as Sean just kept standing there, frozen in the realization of what he had just come across, his cousin stiffened and slowly turned his head up to look at him.
"You ain't going to tell Uncle Richie and Aunt Jackie about this, are you cuz?"
"No, it's okay. Go ahead."
He'd turned back to the refrigerator then, but the question was already popping up in his mind. Biting his lower lip, he'd turned back to his cousin and blurted out:
"Can you get me anything that can help keep me awake?"
Back then his cousin had flashed a look that Sean could imagine being on the face of a man who's just been told that his wife had given birth to a squid. Then he'd simply said:
"Seriously? You?"
Sean had simply nodded, worried that his cousin was going to laugh at him or turn him down. His cousin had stood for a second or two, and then he'd said...
He'd said...
Why do I always mess things up?, was his last coherent thought before the darkness swallowed him whole.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2009 7:37 pm
by Acelister†
"Oh shit... Oh shit... Oh shit..." Rizzo repeated over and over, his hands going into his hair and gripping it in worry. "What the fuck's going on...?"
He didn't know what to do - the guy was bleeding, throwing up and had taken drugs. Not good. He had never taken drugs before, let alone dealt with an overdose.
"Dude...?" he asked. "Are... Are you...?"
He didn't bother finishing his sentence - the guy was obviously unconscious. He moved closer, swearing over and over. He cautiously lifted his head so it wasn't on the ground. He frowned before patting his cheek lightly.
"Hey... Dude... Wake up?" he tried. "Please... Don't die, man... I'll totally be fucking blamed..."
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 13, 2009 6:17 pm
by ElTejon†
He was swimming. Swimming in a murky black pit that held no bottom, enveloped in a warmth that carried him deeper into the depths of unconsciousness. At some level he had a sense of being held in someone's arms, of a slight sting coming to his face as he was slapped once, then twice about the face.
******
He coughed once, then moaned as something that was not entirely a tear rolled from the corner of his left eye.
******
There was a stray beam of light coming from overhead. He slowly shifted his gaze to follow the source of this new intrusion, and found himself staring up at a surface that rippled and shimmered like water over the image of the mid-afternoon sky.
******
Minutes passed, then Sean's eyes opened slightly before immediately closing again. A stream of drool began to trickle from the corner of his mouth, and another, harsher cough tore its way out of his throat.
******
He tried to break the surface, but as he swam up, he could feel a weight bearing down on him, forcing him away from the light until all the fight had left him. Even his gaze was averted, as the same weight which had brought him down into the depths now forced his head to look straight onward into the dark water.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Sun Dec 13, 2009 7:27 pm
by Acelister†
"Shiiiiiiiit...." Rizzo complained, slapping him again, this time quite hard. "Get the fuck awake!"
He shook his head and stood up, lowering Sean to the floor.
"Look... Just... Don't die." he stated, using his hands for emphasis. "I'll... I'll... Fuck-it.... I'll... Call the... Someone."
He took his cellphone out of his pocket, a cheap black flip-screen thing. He hit 911 and the green button, then held it to his ear.
"Ambulance." he stated into the microphone. "Promenade... A guy, he's... I dunno, some sort of drugs... He's unconscious... He's fucked. Yeah... We're in the... In the back alley, where the dumpsters are. Yeah, behind the mall."
He shook his head, still quite unable to believe his luck. He usually kept his head down whilst people came out here to smoke. That was more than one, though... He only looked, as it was a single person...
"Fuck, man... I was going to a party tonight..." he complained at the unconscious senior.
Re: That High Speed Chicken Feed
Posted: Mon Dec 14, 2009 1:02 am
by ElTejon†
Behind Rizzio, the still form of Sean Carver lay flat on his back, his eyes closed and his face caked with dried vomit and whatever black liquid filth had accumulated in small little puddles on the alley pavement. The gradual movement of his chest and the small, pulsating red bubble in his nostril that grew and shrank with his every labored breath were the only things that told anyone he was still alive.
******
The weight was lifted, and suddenly he was no longer floating in a formless void, but standing in a room not unlike his kitchen. There was even his mother, standing by the sink and rinsing her hands while humming her favorite song. He frowned -- she knew he hated the sound of her voice when she tried to sing, and he opened his mouth to speak when he realized that something had changed about her.
Can you steal the moonliiiiiiiight
Seal it in a jaaaaarrrr....
Where the fuck was he, he wondered, looking over and peering at his mother's side profile. She kept her face turned away from him, still trilling out that silly little--
Suddenly, as if in response to what he was thinking, his mother shifted her face over just a little, and Sean caught a good enough look for him to suddenly realize that there was something very, very wrong here.
No fucking way, Sean thought as he started back. What he was seeing now wasn't his mother's face, but his father's. There he was, dear old Dad, singing and rinsing in his mother's frumpy old blouse and crotch-riding jeans, with a obscenely realistic wig sitting in place of his usual thinning brown hair.
"What the FUCK, Dad?" He shouted, taking another step back as he kept his sight fixed straight ahead, afraid of what would happen now that he had interrupted the melody. Instead of flying into a psychotic rage and coming at him with a knife, his Dad simply kept bobbing along and singing about moonbeams and angel's wings. It was both the most ridiculous and the most disturbing thing he could have imagined, the sort of shit he would have seen only in his --
Wait. One. Minute.
He looked over to where the kitchen cabinet was, and saw that it had been left open as it usually was. He raced over and checked the labels, first picking up a box of saltines.
SLATINESES
He blinked, and looked at the label again. More gibberish, this time with the words actually running into each like melting paint.
"Not here," he whispered, looking over to where his father had been standing by the sink. To his surprise, the spot where his father had stood was now vacant, and from this angle he caught a clear glimpse of the kitchen window. The sky was pitch black, and deep down he suspected that if he went over and looked outside, he would see that same, formless inky void that he'd been trying to escape just a...
Few moments... There was something bothering him right now, something about getting in a lot of trouble with the cops.
"Where the fuck am I?"
******
"WhY heLLOooooooo SsEAN"
He flinched as something cold touched his shoulder. Hot breath was on the back of his neck, and suddenly Sean felt himself being turned around effortlessly, and he had the vague sensation of rising and floating off the ground, coming face to face with
"bEeN WaITIng FoR YOU," the thing said, giggling wetly. Sean couldn't speak, nor could he truly understand or even process what his feverish imagination had created. All he could do was stand and watch as the thing drew what looked to be a shard of bloodied glass from it's matted scalp with a shudder of obvious pleasure. Then, with a smile that bared a twisted wreckage of bone fragments and metallic shards, it tightened its grip around his shoulder and drew the shard back.
The thing gave out what sounded like a laugh, and it drove the glass straight into Sean's forehead, just beyond his field of vision.
Everything went black.
******
Colors, everywhere, soft and vibrant and the pain. OH GOD THE PAIN.
******
Sean's body twitched, then his eyelids fluttered open as he reach up and touched his temple. He groaned and shut his eyes again as something red and sharp pulsed behind his right eye. There was a distinct sense of pressure building up behind that eye, and he briefly wondered if his eye would burst along with his head. He lifted his head up just enough to see that Rizzio was standing only a few feet ahead of him, his back turned. He looked like he was waiting for something.
Sean began to rise up, his limbs slow to respond, and tried to call out to the other boy, though all that came out was a sickly grunt as an air bubble popped in his throat.